


Dancing Into the New Year

by ashenpages



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Piano, waltz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 09:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17261840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashenpages/pseuds/ashenpages
Summary: Lanyon discovers another gaping hole in Henry's social skills--the man can't dance. And the New Years ball to wring donations out of patrons is tonight!





	Dancing Into the New Year

**Author's Note:**

> This is my The Glass Scientists Secret Santa gift for [assiraamethyst](https://assiraamethyst.tumblr.com). Happy New Year!

Lanyon blinked slowly over his tea at his friend and partner, Dr. Henry Jekyll. He was trying to process the information that Henry had just given him—that in all of his time at university and around Lanyon, he had somehow never learned to dance. This would be a small problem, merely chortle worthy, if they hadn’t been about to have the annual New Year’s ball.

Lanyon replaced his tea cup in his saucer and folded his hands neatly in his lap. He could see his friend sweating nervously across the table. And quite right he should. The last time Lanyon had reacted to anything so calmly was when Henry had confessed his homosexuality to him, and Lanyon had berated Henry for not telling him sooner and thinking that it would change his opinion of him.

“Henry,” Lanyon said gently. He watched as Henry jolted and nearly toppled his chair.

“Yes, Robert?” Henry smiled like he knew he was in trouble.

“We’ve been friends since university…”

“Yes, Robert, we have. But in my defense—!”

“And in all that time together…”

“Truly, there was never any call for it!”

“And all the parties we went to…”

“You know I always brought my studies to those things!”

“You never thought…”

“Robert, please…”

“To ask me to teach you to dance?”

Henry blinked, coming out of his cringing position. Apparently that hadn’t been the accusation he had been expecting. “You want to teach me to dance?”

Lanyon threw his head back and laughed freely. He leaned his head into his hand and let the laughter fade, giving Henry a sultry look. “Oh, Henry. It’s not about what I want anymore. It’s about what we have to do for the sake of the Society.”

Lanyon stood and went to the bell-pull by the parlor door and tugged thrice shortly, then thrice longly, and then thrice shortly again. Rachel summoned, he returned to Henry, and offered him a hand. “You’re going to dance at the party tonight, and you’re going to do it so masterfully that every potential patron attending will swoon in your arms or donate out of a need to placate his suddenly doting wife.” He smiled in the way that he knew was not so much a smile, but a threat. “Understood?”

Henry sighed like a man with more weight on his shoulders than any physical burden could provide and placed his hand in Lanyon’s sullenly. “Yes…”

“Wonderful.” Lanyon drew Henry to his feet and then placed Henry’s hand on the small of his own back. “Now, you’ll be leading, so I’ll be taking on the part of the follower…”

A feminine giggle came from the door, and Lanyon felt Henry snap to attention.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Rachel asked, leaning against the door frame roguishly.

“Rachel?” Henry exclaimed.

“Yes, yes, she’s very busy in the kitchen, I know,” Lanyon said, cutting off Henry’s protest before it could begin. “But this is an emergency. We need music, and since she’s one of the more skilled pianists in the house and your only other confidant we can trust with the knowledge of your lack of dancing instruction, here she is in your time of need.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “So that’s it, is it? Finally teaching the Doctor Jay to dance, are we?”

Henry scoffed incoherently. “You knew?”

Rachel grinned and sat herself down at the piano. “What’ll it be, Doctor Lanyon?”

“A simple waltz, if you please.”

Rachel nodded and began to play.

“Now,” Lanyon said, spinning out of Henry’s arms. “Let me demo the steps for you. One, two three, one, two, three…” He counted as he moved, making sure to step to the beat of the waltz Rachel played. He demoed the move a few more times, then saw Henry’s helpless expression. “Hmm. Perhaps a bit slower,” he said, slowing his movements to half the tempo of Rachel’s waltz. Henry’s eyes followed the movements easier now.

“And it’s always the same?” Henry asked, his voice sounding a bit panicked. “I’ve seen—”

“What you’ve seen,” Lanyon said, interrupting before Henry could build himself into a panic about dancing as well as some of the people who had been doing it since they were in small shoes, “are extremely talented dancers going above and beyond the duties of social calling.” He twirled himself back into Henry’s space and placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Learn these simple steps, be sure not to pull your partner off balance, make some dazzling polite conversation, and you’ll be good as gold.”

Henry’s hand came up, caressing Lanyon’s waist, and then moved to his back. “O-okay.” He took a deep breath, scrunched up his eyes, then let his breath go. He opened his eyes again and they looked clearer—focused the way they were when he was working out a difficult problem or in the risky part of an experiment. “Here we go.”

The first time he tried to move, he kicked Lanyon in the shin instead of leading. There was some jumping about, some yelling, so profuse apologizing, and some laughter from behind the piano. After a small moment of recuperation, some instruction leading from the core and forward intention before stepping, and the rest of his cup of tea, Lanyon stood to let Henry have another go. This time was much better, if still clumsy and overzealous.  
“You needn’t throw me around, Henry,” Lanyon said, catching himself once again from over balancing. “It’s call ‘leading’ for a reason.”

“Sorry,” Henry said, rubbing Lanyon’s back. “I’m just worried you won’t know where we’re going.”

Lanyon thought, then ran a finger down the exposed skin of Henry’s neck until it met with the fabric of his collar. Henry shivered and turned bewildered eyes on Lanyon.

“Think of it like love making,” Lanyon said.

“I’m sorry, what?” Henry hissed.

Lanyon gave Henry a catty grin. “Come now. There’s hardly any verbal instruction in the bed room, and when there is it’s over generalized and silly. Yet, everything works out. Come hither looks and soft directing touches and all that.”

Henry flushed brilliant vermillion, and Lanyon couldn’t help a thrill of glee that went through him. Insinuating to Henry that he touch Lanyon like a lover would was too much fun.

“Come now, Henry.” Lanyon tossed his hair and batted his eyelash, feigning being the most beautiful girl at the ball that evening. “Are you going to dance the bank notes from my pockets, or aren’t you?”

Henry pursed his lips, his face going from merely embarrassed to determined and embarrassed. He placed his hand on Lanyon’s waist as rigidly as a fencing dummy. Lanyon lifted his nose into the air with a sniff and crossed his arms. “Really, Henry, if that’s the best you can do the Society will be broke by the end of the—”

With a sigh, Henry melted against Lanyon. His arm slid around Lanyon’s back and pulled them together. Henry’s nose grazed the edge of Lanyon’s cheek as he leaned their heads together. Lanyon felt a puff of Henry’s breath press against his ear lobe and almost shivered. There was still structure to Henry’s embrace, but where there had been rigidity and hesitation before there was now intimacy and connection.

Lanyon shut his mouth and swallowed. “Alright,” he murmured, letting himself relax against Henry. “That’s a good start.”

Rachel started a new waltz. For a moment, Lanyon thought Henry had forgotten about the dancing part, but then he felt the tiny weight shifts, the way Henry was guiding Lanyon with his own body—the soft directing touches Lanyon himself had spoken of before. It was enough to take Lanyon’s breath away.

On the next big beat, Henry moved—and Lanyon followed. This close, this connected, it was impossible not to know where Henry wanted Lanyon to step. It was… Well, honestly, it was the best dance of Lanyon’s life—and he hadn’t followed since his youngster days in finishing school. His governess had insisted that learning both parts of the dance would benefit him. Apparently he should have believed her. This was the best dance he’d ever had. For a moment, he let his eyes slide closed and his fingers slide over Henry’s back. Oh yes. This dancing would be sure to put some money in their coffers. The Society would live to commit rogue science for another year.

A sly smirk made its way onto Lanyon’s mouth. No need to tell Henry that immediately, though. They could dance for a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and want to read more, check out more of my work [here!](http://ashenpages.tumblr.com/myfanfiction)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr](http://ashenpages.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ashenpages), and my very own [website](https://theresatyree.com/) where I serialize my own original work.
> 
> To read my original novel Author X Audience, [click here!](https://theresatyree.com/author-x-audience)
> 
> I also sometimes take commissions and do little contests for people to give me writing prompts. Keep an eye on me on Tumblr and Twitter for those. If you have questions, you can reach out to me at fanficsbyash@gmail.com,  
> but I'm usually more responsive over Twitter and Tumblr.
> 
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> Even if you don't want to do any of those things, feel free to come by and chat! Always lovely to hearing from fans!


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